


late night when you need my love

by catmanu



Category: Political RPF, Political RPF - Canadian 21st c., Political RPF - France 21st c.
Genre: Crack, M/M, Macdeau, Phone Sex, at some point in my life i got the idea i could write dialogue, making fun of argentinian presidents is my hobby, pretty sure the G20 only exists for RPF, who's the top? who's the bottom? we just don't know
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-03-03
Updated: 2019-03-03
Packaged: 2019-11-08 22:17:49
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,638
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17989520
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/catmanu/pseuds/catmanu
Summary: They can’t sneak past security.  It’s not a romance novel.





	late night when you need my love

**Author's Note:**

> Well, well, well. Despite shipping this for a couple years (how could you...not?) this type of ship is way out of my Writing Comfort Zone(TM) and I therefore absolve myself of any responsibility for whatever might happen to you if you read this. (Be that as it may, I had one fuck of a good time writing this.)
> 
> Also, [Parque Chas](https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Parque_Chas) is a real place!
> 
> Sorry not sorry to Drake for the title.
> 
> Set at the most recent G-20 summit, which took place in November 2018 in Buenos Aires, Argentina.

 

“Manu?  Did I wake you up?”

“You sure did.”

He checked himself out in the bathroom mirror—there he was in his usual sleep uniform of a white t-shirt, boxers, and slight bedhead.  A guy--a Prime Minister, sure--but a guy just like any other.  Except, of course, for the secrets. 

“You sound like you’re in a bathroom.”

“I am.  Sophie’s asleep.”

 “You didn’t book a suite?”

“No.  Well, yes.”  He sat down on the toilet.  “Someone made a mistake with the reservation.  I don’t know whether it was my team or the hotel, but I didn’t have the heart to tell them to fix it when we got here.”

“But you’re a Prime Minister!  You could have made a fuss!...Oh…and you’re Canadian.  So you don’t make a fuss.”

“You forgot?”

Manu sounded sincere when he spoke next.  His voice had gone soft.  “Sometimes I do forget.  Sometimes you’re just Justin.”

Oh.

“So.  What did you want?”

Justin remembered that he’d had no real reason for calling.  “Uh.  Mauricio invited me to Olivos to play football with him tomorrow.”

“Really?  He invited me, too.  Are you going to go?”

“Not a chance in hell,” Justin said.  “He looks at me like he’s a lost puppy.  It’s uncomfortable.”

“He looks at his whole _country_ like he’s a lost puppy.  Poor guy.”  Manu chuckled.  “I’m not going either.  God, we’re assholes.”

“He can’t sit with us,” Justin joked. He wondered how long he’d be sitting in the bathroom.

“That sounds like a reference to something,” Manu said.  “What is it?”

“ _Mean Girls_.”

“I never saw it.  You’re a real trendy fucker, Justin.”  Manu sounded good when he cursed.  “Always up on what the young people are doing.”

“It’s a funny movie, alright?” 

“I believe you.  Anyway…it’s two in the morning.  What’s up?”

Justin told the truth.  “I missed you.  I know, don’t even say it, we saw each other today.  But it doesn’t really count when it’s in a professional capacity, you know?”

“Yeah, I do.  Is that why you called?”

“I guess it is.  Do you miss me, too?”

“…I do.”  But Manu would never be the one to call to tell him that.  He rarely called, anyway.  When he did, it was because he was up to something.

“Imagine if we could sneak out and meet up somewhere.”  Justin squirmed.  The toilet seat was getting uncomfortable.  He should have made a fuss about getting a suite, so he could sprawl out on a couch and talk to Manu in style.

“Like a tango show in La Boca?”

“La Boca is for tourists, you dork,” Justin said.  “I was reading about a neighborhood over on the west side.  Parque…something.  The streets are laid out like a maze.  It said even taxi drivers have a hard time getting out of there."

“Really?”

“Yeah.  Imagine.  We could go in and never come out.”

“With my approval ratings…” Manu sighed.  “It sounds almost tempting, to go somewhere and never get out.  But we can’t sneak past security.  It’s not a romance novel.” 

“Also, the cab drivers might recognize us.”  Justin tried to keep his spirits up, because now that Manu had turned it down, the idea of sneaking out and meeting him somewhere was frustratingly, irresponsibly appealing.  

“Exactly,” Manu agreed.

Then there was a pause, and sometimes, even though Justin knew beyond a shadow of a doubt how Manu felt about him, these pauses made him feel like he was in high school.  Like his crush was about to turn around and say _never mind, actually I’m not interested_ and then five minutes later he’d see her walking down the hall with another guy.  Some memories didn’t care much about preserving his ego.

“So we miss each other and it’s two AM—” Justin began, and at the same time, Manu went, “I’m getting an idea.”

“You are?”  He looked down at his lap, glaring at his cock like it could respond.  _Don’t you even think about it!_

“Yeah.  First, tell me what you’re wearing.”

“Why the hell should I do that?”

“I want to picture you.”

“Google me, then.” 

“Should I hang up?  It sounds like you’re getting tired.  I know you get cranky when you’re tired.”

“Damn it, Manu.  Fine.  I’m wearing a t-shirt and boxers.  Is that easy enough to imagine?”

“I bet your boxers have maple leaves on them,” Manu laughed.

“Hey, fuck you!...They do.  Stop laughing.  I’ll kick your skinny ass tomorrow at our meeting with Merkel.  I will kick your—”

Manu kept laughing.  It was the kind of laughter that, if they were together in person, only a kiss could stop.  Or the unbuckling of belts and hands pushing—  “What are _you_ wearing, huh?  A _beret?_ ”

“Just boxers, nothing else.  And they’re plain old blue, because I’m not a _nerd_.”

That glare had not worked.  When Manu made fun of him, he inevitably got hard.  He stared down at the maple leaves in his lap, now somewhat distorted.

“I like when you have your shirt off,” he admitted.

“And now you can picture it.  See?  I know what I’m doing.”

“Okay, so I’m picturing it.  And I like it.”

“Meanwhile I’m trying not to imagine those maple leaves.  I’m sure they’re doing a disservice to what’s underneath.”  _Oh, come on.  Fuck!_ “Anyway, get out of that bathroom and get into bed.”

“Sophie is sleeping in there, remember?  I can’t until we hang up.”

Manu’s voice suddenly had _that tone_.  If he hadn’t been up to something before, he sure was now.  “Get into bed.”

“You’re going to tell me a bedtime story?”

“Why aren’t you listening to me?  Get into bed, Justin.”

And he did, grabbing his airpods off the bedside table and lying down as far away from his peacefully sleeping wife as he possibly could.  He couldn’t ignore Manu, not even over the phone.  The guy was small and powerful.  Truly magnetic.  

“I have to hang up,” he whispered.  “I can’t have a whole conversation whispering like this.”

“You’re not going to have to talk,” Manu said.  “I’m getting comfortable. Are you?”

“I’m about as _un_ comfortable as a person can get!” he hissed.  “I’m talking to _you_ and I’m trying not to wake up my _wife_ and I’m hard, Manu!”  By the time he got to the end of that his whispering had turned into a whine.  Manu chuckled.  _He_ was clearly _beyond_ comfortable. 

“You sound like you’re getting desperate.  I have a plan.”

“You better.”

“Let your Manu take care of it, Justin.”

“Why’d you have to say it like that?”

Manu ignored him.  “Take your cock out so I don’t have to think about those fucking maple leaves anymore.”

Justin shoved his boxers down around his thighs. He could tell from how he breathed in a little too loud when he took his cock in his hand that this was probably going to be embarrassing and most certainly going to be—

“Now, what do you think I’d like you to do?”

“I thought I wasn’t going to have to _talk!”_  

“What a whiny boy, hmmm?  I forgot that you get like this.  It’s been a while.” 

Justin sighed in frustration.

“I’d like to you jerk yourself off for me.”

“Wh—”

“Don’t be shy.  I’ve _seen_ you do it. In person.  You have such nice and hands.  Soft and big, if I’m remembering correctly.”  Justin had already begun to obey Manu without even realizing.  “And they do such lovely things to me, don’t they, when they’re able?”

“Mmmm.”  He was in the worst possible position for this.  His left arm would cramp, and his right arm would fall asleep soon.  But who cared?  When it came to erotic narratives, Manu’s were so blunt and to the point they sometimes made him _blush_.

“So let’s make them do some lovely things to you, too.  Now, I don’t want this to take too long.” 

“It—it won’t.”

Manu chuckled.  “That’s good, Justin.  See, that’s what I like about you.  You’re still so young at heart.  Young enough to let me tell you what to do, hmmm?”

“Sometimes I tell _you—_ ”

“Shhhh.  No more talking.”

“I’m going to get back at you for this.”

“I hope you do.  Jerk yourself off fast.  Are you going fast?” 

“Uh-huh.”  His toes were curling under the sheets, and his legs twitched.  He bit his lower lip.  No matter how much Manu enjoyed causing him a bit of humiliation, he didn’t want this to be over _too_ fast.  He _wasn’t_ a sixteen-year-old with bad skin anymore, damn it.

“Good.  I want you just a bit out of control.”

“ _Why_?” he whined, again.

“Do _not_ talk again, Justin, or I’ll hang up.”

He stopped to spit into his fist and then wrapped it around his cock again.  It always felt so slightly barbaric to do that, and so thrilling.  He tangled his other hand in his thick hair, pulling it.  He didn’t like to be hurt; maybe this would slow him down a little.  Not so much.

“I wish I could be watching right now,” Manu was saying.  He’d sound matter-of-fact to the average ear, but Justin heard what was underneath.  “I can imagine, though.  Your legs kicking out just a bit, all squirmy…”

How did he—

“I’ve seen you jerk yourself off before.  It’s not hard to remember.”

Justin was beginning to sweat and it was tempting to kick the blanket off.  He began moving his hips, fucking his fist harder.  That it was his own fist and not Manu’s mouth was an injustice. 

“I hope we can meet up in private tomorrow. We’ll have to find a way.  I was in hell during all those meetings today, watching you.  Your suit fits so perfectly.  Your hair looked so good.  I thought…I thought…So many of these fuckers in here must be having affairs, right?  We’re hardly special.  But I wound up with the best man in the room.”

_No, that’s you.  That’s…us.  That’s us._

“And that man and I are going to fuck tomorrow, somehow,” Manu continued.  “Maybe in a bathroom stall.  Perhaps with our clothes still on.  With people right outside the door.  Maybe we’ll hear someone wondering where we are, and they won’t know you’ve got your cock in my ass…hmmm? Or whatever else we decide to do.”

Justin’s breath was coming out labored and uneven, now.  Manu’s directness was going to make this end too soon.

“And they’ll have to wait longer for us, because after we’re done I plan to hold you for quite a while.  Even if we’re in a bathroom stall.  God, it feels so good to do that.  And you better hold me, too…But I know you will, because you’re Justin, and that’s what you do." 

It came upon him suddenly, that certain pleasure only Manu’s breathing and Manu’s words and _Manu oh, God, Manu_ could bring him.  He shot his right hand out from under his head and groped wildly for a tissue.  “Manu…” he whispered.  “I—”

“You’re going to tell me you love me.  Hmmm.” Manu laughed softly, warmly, satisfied.  “I think I know what’s about to happen.”

“Uh-huh.”  He _did_ love Manu.  It was one of the most beautiful feelings in the world, to love, and he loved Manu in all ways—his soft voice, his brains, his neat clothes, his cute little butt, even, his self-control, his—his—

He rolled part of the way over so he could sink his teeth into his pillow even though his mouth wanted desperately to open and cry out for Manu, so unselfconscious, so very out of control.  But his Manu knew him well.  “Now, don’t make too much _noise_ , Justin,” Manu was scolding.  “That would be _embarrassing_.”  And thank goodness he’d managed to grab a tissue in time, because that would have been even _more_ embarrassing.

He rode out the wave of his love for Manu in big twitches, then littler ones, as he whined into his pillow and Manu breathed heavily into the phone.

And then it was over.

With sweaty hands, he balled the sticky tissue up and tossed it in the general direction of the little trash can under the desk.  After all, any politician worth his or her salt knew you had to get rid of incriminating evidence as quickly as possible. 

“Are you still there, Justin?”

“Uhhh…yeah.  Where would I have gone?” He flexed his fingers.  “You can’t be thinking you made me…lose consciousness from just the power of your directions?”

“Wouldn’t be the first time.”

“Shut up.”

He got up to head back to the bathroom and wash up, forgetting that his boxers were halfway around his thighs.  With one hand soiled and the other holding his phone, he had no choice but to leave them there and waddle through the darkness.  In the mirror, he looked the same as before, but with a much redder face.  He turned the water on.

“So.  We’ve never done that before, have we?”

“You are a lying little shit.” The soap was lavender-scented.  Justin appreciated the soothing fragrance. His heart was beating pretty fast.  It would be hard to get to sleep.  “I can think of at _least_ five times when—”

“Yes, but safely in our offices, right?  Never in such secrecy.  Did you like it?”

“No.  Yes.”

Manu chuckled.  “I figured.  Well, we’ll have to—”

“Hold on.”  Justin turned the water off, carefully dried his hands, and pulled his boxers back up.  He had a solution to their earlier problem now, and he was proud of himself.  “We can’t sneak _out_ …but how about I sneak _up,_ and you sneak _down?_ ”  Not everyone could be so clever at this time of night. 

“I know you think of yourself as a great intellectual, but that made no sense.”

“Oh, shut up.  You’re a couple floors above me.  Take the fire stairs, okay?  I’ll walk up,  you’ll walk down, and we’ll meet in the middle. And there we can…finish what we started.”

“Hmmm.  What does _that_ mean?”

Justin ran his fingers through his hair.  “Whatever you want it to mean.”

He’d gotten Manu’s attention.  When Manu spoke again, his voice was full of need.  He had impressive self-control—up to a point. 

“Alright.  As soon as we hang up, I’m going to the staircase.  I can’t believe I’m about to do this.”

“I can.  It’s ‘cause you’re _crazy_ about me, Manu.”

“I’m hanging up before you say anything else like that.  I’ll see you _very_ soon.” 

Justin stumbled out into the hall, blinking.  Even though he’d had the lights on in the bathroom, the hallway seemed even brighter.  He took a few steps, rubbing his eyes like a sleepy kid, and heard someone cough from somewhere nearby.

It was then he remembered that he had one of his guys from Protective Service on guard in the hall—protocol, of course—and that he’d been in such a rush to get to Manu that he’d forgotten to put on pants.  His rumpled maple leaves were proudly on display.

What followed was a terrible, excruciating moment of eye contact.

 “I, uhhhh.  I.”  Would it kill the guy to stop staring?  “Ice machine.  You know.”  _Where’s your ice bucket, Justin, huh?_

“I don’t think there’s—”

“I’ll see you in a few!”  He burst through the door to the staircase and leaned against the wall.  The wall was cold, the landing under his bare feet even colder, but he was sweating even harder than he’d been in bed on the phone.  Was he actually as stupid as the Conservative trolls on YouTube said he was?  How could he have fucked up so badly?

And then he heard soft footsteps coming down from a few flights above, and all was forgotten.

 


End file.
